


fear the fall

by willowcabins



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Bank Robbery, F/F, Nobody is Dead, Porn With Plot, Seduction through food
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 07:33:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2804579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/willowcabins/pseuds/willowcabins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finch & Co.'s industries towered over Gotham, but tonight the tower seemed to have a certain message. Shaw rolled her eyes as all the lights in the top nine floors were coordinated to read "penis". She clenched her jaw and hitched her bag up on her back.<br/>She had a pretty good idea where she would find the person responsible for her loss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	fear the fall

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chromestorm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chromestorm/gifts).



> this prompt was amazing i hope i gave it due credit!!!!!!!!!!!!!! also love superhero aus SO MUCH but just as an aside all ur fave DC heroes names r p much the only thing i kept (xcept for Hanna, bc in my head she and comic!Black Canary have a lot in common hence the casting)  
> (also, have never watched The Good Wife, though I am frequently told it is a quiality show that I _should_ watch, but I just have this headcanon that Reese's downtime would be a really unexpected tv show)  
>  lastly, i wrote most of this fic listening to [this fanmix](http://8tracks.com/samgroves/land-badly-crash-standing)

Shaw breathed out once; her breath misted in the air in front of her. The clock went 10:00. Shaw nodded and pressed go.

Shaw had this down to an art; she could rob a bank in 23 steps these days, and it was the best. 23 steps and exactly 2 minutes. Shaw slid a credit card through the card reader at the door, which let her into the lobby of the bank with the ATMs. By passing the ATMs, Shaw demagnetized the next door with a small tool and then slipped through the door, quietly stepping into the main room of the bank. She glanced up at the CCTV screens; Cole disabled those wirelessly fifteen minutes ago, setting them on five minute loop, allowing her to pass under them undetected. There was no flicker in the motion sensors as Shaw walked by; Cole had stayed true to his promise.

1 minute 45 seconds.

Shaw hated this city; she only came back to Gotham because Grice told her she would never succeed in this city. "You just don't have what it takes," he hiccupped between beers, "to beat Batman."

Nine weeks of recon later, and Shaw knew that Batman, also know as John Reese, was never seen on the streets between 10 and 11 on Sundays. Either this was because statistically there was low crime in Gotham between these times, or it was because this is when The Good Wife aired, and watching The Good Wife was Reese's only treat to himself. Either way, it meant that Shaw had another 59 minutes and 30 seconds to finish this job.

The bright green carpeted floor silenced Shaw's combat books on the floor. She walked softly to the end of the hallway; the security guard was just returning from his rounds; perfectly timed. Shaw could hear him quietly humming to himself. She pressed herself against the wall, and when he rounded the corner, she pounced on him, putting him in a chokehold and letting him fall to the floor gently.

1 minute 15 seconds. Shaw had memorized the blueprints of this building weeks ago. She quietly counted in her head as she walked passed offices. The ninth door on her right lead to the manager's office. Shaw realised the counting hadn't been necessary; there was a keypad in front of that door, strengthening the double lock. Shaw frowned. She had no prepared for that. She was relieved Cole had installed a code cracker in her phone, and quickly hooked it up to the door code. The little light flared red, and then turned green. Shaw smiled as she fell to her knees in front of the door, picking the lock. She missed traditional locks.

1 minute 10 seconds. With the appropriate finesse, Shaw managed to open the door. At the back of the manager's office, there was another door, with another lock. She strode across the room and was relieved when she found this one opened easier. It only took her nine seconds, and then she was in.

Her clock beeped. 10.01 She smiled; she was in the safe room. Ahead of her, the large vault loomed. Shaw nibbled her lip and tilted her head, pulling out her safe cracking equipment. The bank had been smart; they had gone with an old time model. Few bank robbers knew how to handle manual safes these days. Shaw, on the other hand, was an expert at them. She cracked her knuckles, carefully inserted her stethoscope, and was about to start when-

The lights flickered, and then completely went off. Shaw looked up at the ceiling in disbelief as, for nine precious seconds, she was cast in darkness. The fact that the power outage was also in Reese's blackout time was hardly a coincidence. The lights flickered back on, and Shaw knew she had 34 seconds to get out before she got caught. She looked at the safe longingly, but instead of returning to her endeavors, she dumped the stethoscope back into her bag and began undoing her steps, carefully to clean every surface of DNA residue.

She stepped over the unconscious security guard. He would raise the alarm when he stirred in approximately ten minutes, and the police would be surprised to find that although there were traces of activity, not a single penny was stolen from the vault. Shaw sighed.

A vault that currently contained not only 9.3 million dollars, but also a fresh stash of weapons including a rocket launcher. And tomorrow they would be shipped off to Central City, and Shaw would be left gunless.

She sighed as she stepped into the street, and then paused.

Finch & Co.'s industries towered over Gotham, but tonight the tower seemed to have a certain message. Shaw rolled her eyes as all the lights in the top nine floors were coordinated to read "penis". She clenched her jaw and hitched her bag up on her back.

She had a pretty good idea where she would find the person responsible for her loss.

Root was so pleased with herself for figuring it out. 6 seasons into Reese’s favorite tv show and she finally had a single hour in Batman's day figured out. A whole hour. During which he watched some cable drama about women. And law. He was so predictable. But, his idiocracy was her gain; she rubbed her hands together in excitement and looked at her watch. 10.01. The show had started. She grinned down at her phone and put down her timer and then started patching the police wifi.

Her background program was running hacking into the city electricity network.

At 10:01:15 seconds, she had hacked the city network, and with an evil grin she turned off all the power, except one protected port, (which plugged into a certain Mr. Reese's television set). The power was only off for a total of nine seconds; long enough to force the precinct computers to reset themselves, and thus installing her virus. Root rubbed her hands together again, though this time it was for warmth. It was cold on the roof, but she need the proximity to get into the CCTV footage. The grainy black and white footage was showing every computer in the precinct booting up. Slowly, each screen began playing the same bad 15 second animation, whispering in Batman's iconic voice "i'm just an interested third party". Root grinned. Her work here was done.

Well, almost done.

She clicked another button.

The correct lights flashed, and she closed her briefcase.

The offices of Finch & Co.'s industries shined brightly down on her. Root looked up. The words ‘Penis’ shone down her, and she grinned.

She really hoped Reese would look out of the window during commercial break.

Reese's phone rang. He checked the time. 10.32. He frowned at the caller ID. If there was one person in the world who respected his hour of downtime, it was Police Commissioner Carter. She only called if the issue was urgent. He put the television of mute and picked up. "How can I help?"

"Look out of your window," Carter said in her clipped voice. Reese frowned, but walked over to his window. He sighed when he was met with the sight of Finch & Co.'s industries’ top floors lit up with the word "Penis."

"Seriously?" He asked, rubbing his forehead in annoyance.

"Even better," Carter informed him. "In addition to this prank, your hacker uploaded some very resilient and deep-seeded malware to the precinct computer.”

"We all know who this was," Reese sighed. He glanced back at his tv. The commercials were over and it had returned to The Good Wife. He quickly turned off the television. If he couldn’t watch it, he definitely didn’t want to be spoiled for it.

"I'm on my way," Finch chimed in. Reese hadn’t realised he had joined the call, but it made sense. "Ms. Groves does have a wonderful touch with computers."

"In other news,” Carter sighed, alerting Reese to the fact that the other news wasn’t any better than the first, “I think the woman you warned us about made a move."

"X?" Reese asked, surprised.

"Yup."

"She robbed a bank?" Reese ran a hand over his face.

"I think she tried too," Carter admitted.

"Send me the address," he said. "I'll be there in five minutes. Start canvassing witnesses.”

"Spoiler!" Root looked up, surprised. Shaw was standing on the fire escape into her apartment. Root smirked.

"X!" She replied, closing her computer. “Come in!”

"What are you doing?" Shaw demanded, stepping into the room through the window and advancing on Root. Root looked around.

"Me?" She asked, in mock innocence. Shaw glared at her. Her grin widened. "I just installed a virus on the police software that will trip them up for quite some time," she admitted.

"And the power outage?" Shaw demanded. Root narrowed her eyes.

"You noticed that?" She asked, surprised.

"Yeah,” Shaw snapped. “It just completely destroyed my bank heist."

"What?" Root asked, surprised. The power outage should not in anyway have interfered with the bank security….

"I was gonna rob a bank, but your ruined it for me,” Shaw repeated, standing aggressively close to Root. “You owe me, Spoiler."

"Owe you?"

"I was going to make Batman squirm." Root scoffed and gestured at the 'Penis' lighting up the side of Finch & Co.'s industries.

"I think I already did that," she pointed out. Shaw laughed hollowly.

"A simple childish prank. That's what you call making Batman squirm?"

"Well, I did also destroy the Gotham PD's firewall," she defended almost petuantly.

"That won't affect him," Shaw snapped. Root raised an eyebrow.

"You'd be surprised."

"I know this city," Shaw snapped. Root bristled.

"No, X, you don't. This is my city. You've been here, what, four weeks?" Root smirked. "This is my city and I know how to do things. You don't. I doubt you even know my real name. Now, please leave."

"Spoiler -"

"No, Shaw, get out of my city." Root chuckled as Shaw stepped back, slightly surprised. "Yes, I know your secret identity. Isn't that scary? Someone who is better at what you think you're great at?"

"So you know my secret., Don't a lot of people?"

"Perhaps where you're from, but I'm sure the FBI would be interested in knowing what you've been up to."

"You would never tell the FBI that," Shaw pointed out. Root laughed.

"Good point,” she agreed. “But I'm sure there are nine or ten people who you've pissed off enough outside the law to send the correct people to end you." Shaw stared at her opponent. It was hard to read her face; it was mostly cast in shadow by a purple hood. Shaw narrowed her eyes at her.

"You think you're so clever," she began, but sirens on the street interrupted her. She strode over to the window and glanced down at the street; two police cars were arriving. Shaw looked behind her; Root tilted her head and smirked.

"Woops," she said happily. "Someone must have alerted the police that a crazy bank robber who calls herself X is in the building." Root grinned, pushing past Shaw and hopping onto the fire escape. She grinned at Shaw, and then jumped off the building, shooting her grappling hook at the closest building and swinging with almost unnatural ease. Shaw groaned and looked over the edge. She couldn't make it across. She sighed again and stepped into the building. By the time the police charged up the stairs, Shaw had changed from her all black clothing back into her normal jeans and t-shirt attire. They pushed past her, but Shaw ignored them, pretending to be a frazzled civilian.

Shaw's apartment was sparse. It was the point  of the small anonymous loft based on the simple metal bed frame and the colourless tiles it could have belonged to anyone. Shaw opened her fridge, reaching around her guns to get out a bottle of beer, and opened her laptop. Spoiler had an advantage on her; she knew her name. Shaw needed  to get her edge back though. She logged onto the secure server, and into the secure chat room Catalyst Indigo 5A.

Cole? She typed in. Mere seconds the reply shot through the ether.

Cole: Yes!

Shaw: Tell me all I need to know about Spoiler.

Cole: The Gotham trickster?

Shaw: Yes.

Cole: Well, eve in real life she goes by the alias Root. I can get her her most upto date address, if you want. I recently found it while checking out the Gotham PD servers. They had suspicions that she was there. But then she wiped the server and moved, but her moving was not cloaked enough.

Shaw: I think that’s the apartment I trailed her too this evening. It’s abandoned now.

Cole: That’s the best I got right now.

Shaw: Do you have anything other than an address?

Cole: Known associates include Batman and Black Canary?

Shaw: Wait, she works with Batman?

Cole: Sometimes.

Shaw: What does that mean?

Cole: It means sometimes she works with him when he works on causes that she thinks are important. And sometimes she works against him.

Shaw: Why?

Cole: I don't know.

Shaw: Sounds strange.

Cole: I think she is strange. Why do you ask?

Shaw: I think I accidentally entered a competition against her.

Cole: What for?

Shaw: Annoying her?

Cole: Well, that might prove difficult.

Shaw: Why?

Cole: She's an incredibly interesting person." Shaw laughed, drained her beer and checked the time.

Shaw: Try and find me a better address," she decided. "I’ll run surveillance on her in the morning."

Shaw was up on the roof opposite Root's apartment at 6am, though she found that she had to wait until 11am until she got any movement. She was genuinely taken aback at how late Root slept; according to the file that Cole sent over she worked as a computer programmed at a company. Something that should be a nine to five job, according to his intel. And yet when she did finally leave the apartment at 12.30, it was not to go to work. She went and met a friend for lunch. Shaw didn't understand this person.

Shaw's attempts to hijack Root's phone had been predictably failed. But she had managed to hijack the phone around them, and she was listening to Root's easy prattle, as she played an incredibly annoying persona. Shaw quickly got annoyed and stopped listening, deciding instead to maintain eyes on her. She introduced herself as Root to everyone anyway.

When they stepped out of the restaurant, Hanna looked up. "Why is there someone following you, Root?" She asked.

"You see her too?" Root beamed at Hanna. Hanna rolled her eyes.

"You made a PI follow you just to test me?" She demanded, annoyed. Root chuckled and shook her head.

"Though I did have that planned for later this month, that is not why she's following me." Hanna raised an eyebrow, but Root did not elaborate. She sighed.

"Fine, I'll bite. Why's she following you?"

"Do you see her?"

"Yes."

"That's X."

"X?! Really!?"

"Yes!" Hanna peeked up at Shaw again.

"I had no idea she was in Gotham!" She gushed. Root chuckled and pulled Hanna by the arm so they started walking again.

"Well I mean, that's the point," she joked.

"You mean she's already committed a crime?" Hanna asked in amazement.

"Oh no,” Root said derisively, “Oh god no. Not even she's that good." Hanna’s brow furrowed.

"So what she's doing wasting time following you?" She asked. Root grinned.

"I accidentally stopped her from robbing a bank," she explained happily. Hanna did a double take.

"What?" She demanded. Root grinned and nodded.

"Yes," she assured Hanna happily.

"How!? Wait does this mean you are becoming a good guy now?" Hanna asked, quivering with excitement.

"Oh god," Root laughed, rolling her eyes. "No: I said 'accidentally'.” Hanna snorted.

"Only you could accidentally follow the law." Root smirked, tilting her head as they stopped in front of Hanna’s offices.

"I'll take that as a compliment," She decided. Hanna chuckled and rolled her eyes. She leaned forward to kiss Root’s cheek affectionately, but Root grabbed her by the shoulder and looked at her with mock urgency. Hanna gave her a confused look. "So……...?" Root prompted her. Hanna narrowed her eyes, still confused. “The hack?” Root prompted. Hanna laughed.

"Oh right. Yeah, the big hack?" Hanna asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes!" Root paused. "Is that all you're gonna say about it?" She prompted again.

"It was a big hack," Hanna added. Root looked at the sky in exasperation.

"Come on!" She egged her on.

"It was not one of your best?" Hanna offered. Root grabbed her heart in mock offense.

"What?!" She demanded.

"I mean, come on!" Hanna made a face. “An animation?” She shook her head derisively. “You can do better.” Root sighed.

“Everyone’s a critic!” she complained. Hanna chuckled.

"Especially me,” she agreed. “Anyway, are you free next week?" Root narrowed her eyes.

"Why?" She asked suspiciously.

"I want you to scrub my computer. It took the IT guys here like nine hours and i'm pretty sure most of your virus is still there."

"Well, its meant to be," Root pointed out.

"But not for me," Hanna said strictly.

"Ugh, fine," Root agreed. "I don't know why you get 'no virus' privilege," she mumbled. Hanna chuckled.

"Because you already know everything to know about me," she told Root, kissing her cheeks and squeezing her shoulder.

"It's true," Root agreed. She waved as Hanna walked up the stairs. She paused at the top, throwing a glance in Shaw’s direction.

“Can you get me all you have on X?" She asked. Root shurgged.

"Sure. It's not a lot there."

"Wasn't there a task force for her a couple of years ago?" Hanna asked, tilting her head.

"Yeah, but when Carter became Commissioner she disbanded all "super" taskforces."

"She isn't super though, right?"

"Not any more super than you."

"Low."

"Me?" Hanna laughed. "Never."

Shaw dialed the familiar number and waited for the bored monotone reply. "Cole,” she interrupted him. “I sent you some pictures." Cole yawned.

"Not of Spoiler, I hope," he mumbled.

"No, of her associate." Shaw could hear a computer being opened in the background.

"The woman she's having lunch with?" Cole asked.

"Yes."

"Oh, facial recognition clocks her as Black Canary."

"What?" Shaw asked, taken aback.

"Well, her day identity is Hanna Frey.” Cole elaborated. “She's one of the most important prosecutors for the DA. She and Spoiler grew up together." Shaw sighed, watching Root walk away through her binoculars.

"I don't understand this city," she growled.

"I think that's the point," Cole replied ruefully. Shaw rolled her eyes.

“Whatever," she snapped, packing away her binoculars and marching off to follow Root.

Root was walking slowly, waiting patiently for Shaw to catch up with her. But Shaw just trailed her, overtly visible. Root stopped and turned around, glancing behind her with an exaggerated sigh. "If you continue following me so overtly," she said in a bored tone of voice, "I think you should call Cole and tell him to take over. I even think he could do better."

Shaw didn't return Root's smile. "How did you know who I worked with?"

"Shaw,” Root began condescendingly, “did you know that when you jack my phone, you open up your phone to attack?"

"What?"

"When you tried to jack my phone, your phone automatically lowers its firewall to let in content from my phone. This includes bugs."

"You jacked my phone?"

"Yes,” Root said simply. She looked down at the clock. “At about 6am this morning."

"You were sleeping then."

"Yes, but my phone wasn't," Root pointed out gleefully. Shaw glared at her.

"Why are you doing this?" She demanded.

"You're the one that's following me," Root disagreed, and then she stepped into the street and hailed a cab. Shaw sighed, blowing up air to push the strand of hair out of her face. She opened her phone; all her icons and notifications had been replaced with emotion cats. Shaw dropped her phone on the ground and ground her heel into the screen until it cracked. She needed to get a new phone.

Shaw picked up Root's trail again at her job. She sat in a cubicle, twirling a pencil between her fingers, testing programs when Shaw finally laid eyes on her again. "Replacing your phone wasn't easy, you know," Cole complained through Shaw's earpiece. "Especially not one that she wouldn't be able to hack."

"Is it impregnable now?"

"Well, unless you do something stupid, yes."

"I didn't do anything stupid," Shaw snapped.

"Yes, I know," Cole replied airily. "She was just better than you."

"She's not going to be better than me anymore," Shaw growled. Cole chuckled.

"What are you gonna do?" He asked. "Raid her fridge?"

"No."

"What then?"

"Well, I have something better in mind."

"Like what?"

"I want to beat her at her own game," Shaw said smugly.

"Hacking?" Cole asked, disbelief rich in his voice.

"Yes."

"That's impossible Shaw. Not even I could do that."

"Are you saying i'm less qualified than you?"

"Yes, I am. Out of the two of us, I'm the only person with a degree in computer science."

"Well, I'm the one who is going to beat her."

"How?"

"I have an idea. Can you text me if she leaves the office building?"

"She would have to swipe her security badge, so I'll just set up an alert for you."

"Great."

"Where are you going?"

"To church."

Setting up your offices in the clocktower of a church was a dramatic move, and Harold knew it. He had, however, bought the church years ago as an investment to try and maintain the culture of Gotham. The church was old; it was built during the depression to generate jobs. Harold's great grandfather on his mother's side had been one of the construction workers. He had always felt oddly connected to it, even for an atheist. It was also incredibly useful, because by the time that any intruder made it from the first silent alarm to the clocktower, Harold could be prepared. As the young woman stepped through her door, the automatically triggered facial recognition gave him a name. Sameen Shaw, aka X. Wanted for several dozen bank robberies, included an attempted robbery in Gotham. He tilted her head. According to Police Commissioner Carter's report, Shaw had attempted to rob a bank at the exact same time Root had cut the power. She was probably looking for the person who had lost her her job. She came up the stairs, barely out of breath. Harold watched her as she approached him.

"If you want to know who cost you your successful robbery yesterday, her name is Root."

"What's her real name?" Shaw asked, unimpressed by the information. Surprised, Harold provided her identity.

"Samantha Groves," he said. Shaw stared at him, and began prowling around. “Why do you ask?” Finch probed politely.

"I want to beat her," Shaw said simply.

"Beat her?" Finch repeated, surprised.

"She knows everything about me," Shaw explained.

"Oh, if its knowledge you want, Ms. Shaw..."

Shaw cut him off with a clipped: "I don't want knowledge."

"Then I am afraid to admit I am confused,” Harold replied, spreading his hands in a gesture of submission in front of her. “What else does she have?"

"Money."

"Ms. Groves doesn't have any physical money hidden in a safe for you to steal, though. All her money is tied up in internet banking, beautifully networked so not a single cent traces back to her name."

"I know that," Shaw replied dismissively. Harold's forehead furrowed.

"If you know that, then why are you here?" He asked cautiously. Shaw smiled.

"I am here," she explained, "because I need your help."

"I gathered that..."

"I need your help stealing all of Root's money and files."

"What?"

"She thrives off information. I want every file she owns purged."

"I can't do that, Ms. Shaw. Root's network is so well encrypted and protected that even my best computers takes days to solve one simple alphanumeric description, even though those update every twenty-four hours."

"What if I was able to offer you physical access?"

"What?"

"What if I got into her apartment, and let you piggyback on the wifi on my phone?"

"Well, I'd definitely have access..." Harold admitted.

"Would you be able to make a remote wipe?" Shaw demanded.

"Of all her data?" Harold asked, raising an eyebrow. Shaw nodded. "All of it?" Harold repeated. Shaw paused and glared at him.

“Yes," she snapped.

"That would probably take days. I once heard that she owned twelve acres of servers out in Idaho." Shaw waved her hand.

"I can give you time," she agreed. "I just need you to tell me you can do it."

"If its a question of skills, I can definitely do it. Your boy Cole may be good, but I am better."

"And Root is better than the both of you." Harold looked like he was about to protest, and then he checked himself. Shaw smirked. "If you help me," she said happily, "then I will leave your city as soon as possible."

“Without any thievery?"

"Without even picking a single lock," Shaw promised.

"You seem very confident in your ability to win this little battle of wills," Finch pointed out. Shaw smirked and turned away, walking back to the stairs. As she got to the back of the stairs, she winked at Harold in joy.

"I am very confident in my abilities," she agreed.

Root was sitting at a dining table for two in the middle of a crowded restaurant. Shaw glanced into the window, and then immediately walked in. There was little question: Root was waiting for Shaw to join her. The maitre d' stopped Shaw, giving her a derogatory once over.

"Do you have a reservation?" he asked sceptically.

Shaw gave him a derisive look and nodded at Root. "She's waiting for me," she snapped. The man looked at Root, elegantly attired in a short black dress, and back at Shaw, in her black jeans and her black top and her knee high boots. She just pushed passed him and walked to Root's table.

"This for me?" She asked sarcastically, pulling out the chair. Root titled her head and smiled at her.

"Wine?" She asked, gesturing the bottle on the table. She took a sip out of her own glass, proving the point that the flicker of fear that had crossed Shaw's mind, whispering poison, was wrong. Shaw leaned forward.

"As long as you're picking up the bill," she said, pouring herself a glass. Root smiled over the rim of her own glass.

"I may have stopped you from getting this score, Sameen," she murmured, rolling Shaw's name over her tongue, "but that doesn't mean you're poor."

"I talked to a man about you-"

"You talked to Oracle about me," Root corrected. Shaw raised an eyebrow. "You're not the only one who can attach a ping to my movements," she said with a smile. Shaw narrowed her eyes, and then figured it out.

"You knew I came in because I triggered Oracle facial recognition software?" She asked. Root nodded.

"Of course."

"He said you were good." Root leaned forward and smirked.

"I'm not just good, Sam," she purred. "I'm the best." Shaw leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow.

"You are?" She asked. Root tilted her head to the side; her hair cascaded over her shoulder. She nodded at some figure behind Shaw. Shaw looked; a hoard of waiters were approaching with several different dishes. As each plate was set down in front of Shaw, Root narrated its content.

"Steak," Root said, pointing at the first dish, "with an elegant pepper sauce and a touch of lemon." Shaw stared. “The salad isn’t included on your usual order, but the chef insisted. Next, you have your 100 day dry aged snake river farms’ beef with Bluefoot Mushrooms, "Pommes Purée," Romaine Lettuce "Paquette" and "Sauce Bordelaise" .” Shaw looked up at Root. She seemed to be rattling these things off from memory. "Filet mignon,” she continued. “Specifically, Pan Roasted Filet Mignon with Wild Mushrooms and Mole Sauce.” Another dish was put down in front of Shaw. "Spit roasted sasso chicken breast,” Root explained, “with Tarragon Pommes Dauphine, Swiss Chard, Cipollini Onion and Hen of the Woods Mushrooms.” and with a final flourish, the last dish was out in front of Shaw. "And, of course, your other favorite, lamb. The cook was a little confused as to the intricacies of your grandmother's recipe, but I talked him through some of the fineries." Shaw didn't bother asking how Root knew. She just stared down at the different types of dishes, each other perfectly tailored to Shaw's taste.

"I don't think its even worth me asking how you know this, is it?" Shaw asked, stared down at the selection of food in front of her, Root smirked and shook her head.

"I know everything, Shaw," she hummed.

"You do?"

"I could tell you about that time your father took you to the baseball park in 1995;" Shaw stiffened, but Root continued. "I could," she repeated, "But i'm not going to because I know talking about your father makes you uncomfortable." She gestured at the array of dishes in front of Shaw. "Anyway, chose a dish. The rest will be delivered to your small apartment on 12th street. I already told them the door code so that they could put it straight in your fridge, though I made sure to mention not to be scared by your frankly insane collection of guns that you also keep in the fridge."

"It's the best place to store them," Shaw replied nonchalantly, choosing the chicken breast and pulling it towards herself. Root raised an eyebrow.

"You're a strange woman, Shaw," she said lightly, putting down her wine glass. Shaw shrugged as the hoard of waiters reappeared to clear the other food. Shaw indicated the she wanted to keep the fillet mignon too before she looked back at Root. "What are you eating?" she asked. Root waved her hand.

"The chef makes me something small," she said airily. Shaw narrowed her eyes.

"You don't eat?" She demanded. Root smiled but didn't answer. Shaw rolled her eyes and began shoveling food in her mouth.

"I'm sure you're wondering why I orchestrated this meeting," Root began. Shaw gave her a derisive look.

“You wanted to show off," Shaw theorized. Root chuckled.

"I could have shown off by simply having this food delivered to your door, Sameen. I wanted to do something far more subtle."

"Scare me?"

"Not quite." Shaw watched Root. She moved with the languid certainty of a predator eyeing her prey. Shaw didn't feel uncomfortable in Root's predatory gaze though; there was something incredibly admiring in the small head tilt she gave, and then her smile. The red wine had stained her lips more red; Shaw decided she liked Root like this. She crossed her legs again, and the two bracelets on her wrist clinked together in a glitter of silver. Shaw watched her.

"I'm quite a fan of your work, Shaw," Root purred. Shaw raised an eyebrow.

"You want to hire me?" She asked, surprised. "You know, I usually accept a cut of the money I steal. All this," she gestured at the restaurant and the food, "is frankly incredibly unnecessary."

"I don't want to hire you," Root disagreed. Shaw narrowed her eyes.

"So what do you want?"

They were standing outside the restaurant now. Shaw was looking up at Root expectantly. "You know," Root said casually, "this all took time."

"What did?" Shaw asked. Root nodded at the restaurant and grinned.

"DId you really think that they had 100 day of lamb from that specific farm on hand here, like they do at that new york restaurant that you like?" Shaw hadn't even thought about it. She paused, and then tilted her head.

"You've been planning this," she said, slowly realising. Root grinned.

"As I said," she said sweetly. "im a fan." She began walking off. Shaw ground her teeth and followed, falling into step next to Root.

"What does that mean?" She demanded. Root smiled down at Shaw.

"It means that I know things."

"How?"

"That would be telling."

"I dont like you." Root laughed and stopped in the street. She stepped closer to Shaw; Shaw froze. She leaned forward and extracted the gun that SHaw had pushed in the waistband of her jeans and took out the magazine. "Shaw," she murmured, carefully putting the empty gun back. "Most girls don't appear at a date with at least one back up gun."

"How did you know that was my backup?" Shaw asked dumbly as Root fished out her actual gun. Root chuckled as she unloaded this gun too and gave it back to Shaw.

"Spoilers," she murmured. Then she leaned forward and kissed Shaw lightly on the lips. Her breath tasted of red wine and bitter chocolate. Shaw stepped into her, opening her mouth and deepening the kiss unexpectantly. Root’s hands rested on Shaw’s neck, tilting her neck upwards to gain better access as Root slipped her tongue into her mouth. Shaw nibbled the bottom of Root’s lip lightly, pulling her closer by the waist. Then Shaw tugged neatly on Root’s dress and broke off the kiss. Shaw grinned as she stepped back, holding up the ammo.

“Look at what I have,” she murmured, holding up a single magazine. Root grinned and pushed Shaw against the wall, braceletting her wrists with her hands and pinning them against the rough brick. She kissed Shaw again, biting at her lip gently as Shaw shifted below her, tugging at her hands as she relaxed her jaw to allow in Root’s tongue. Shaw’s protest was half-hearted at best, and when Root stole back the magazine, pushing her thigh between Shaw’s leg, Shaw just hummed in approval.

“What do you want, Root?” Shaw’s demand, originally meant to sound more threatening, sounds more raw. Root grinned and trailed a hand over Shaw’s neck, marvelling between the contrast of her own white fingers, and Shaw’s darker skin. Root tilted her head and met Shaw’s eyes.

“You,” Root replied simply. It was comical; Shaw was pinned to the wall by Root, pleasant heat tightening in her stomach, and yet she wasn’t sure in what capacity Root wanted her. And then Root kissed her again, and Shaw had no doubt.

By the time they got to Root’s apartment, Shaw’s hands were itching for Root’s skin. She pushed Root on the dining room table, hitching up her thigh as Root attempted to rub herself against Shaw. Root smirked, linked her ankles around Shaw's waist and pulling her closer. She pushed Shaw's hair out her face again. She stared at her hungrily, as if she was somehow committing her to memory. Shaw sighed and rolled her eyes; she was impatient and horny.

Root smirked and anchored a hand at the base of Shaw's neck, pulling her closer and languidly running a tongue along Shaw's lips. Shaw forgot how electric Root felt; sometimes, unexpectedly, she dug her nails into supple, unsuspecting flesh, and Shaw would groan into her, grabbing her ass and pulling her closer, just slightly closer.

Shaw pushed Root's legs apart and grasped at her tights. Shaw laughed weakly.

Root wanted to complain, but then Shaw ripped her tights with one efficient movement at the inner thigh. Root embarrassed herself with a desperate gasp as Shaw's hand grazed her way up pale sweaty flesh. "I knew you needed me," Shaw snarled.

Root didn't have time to argue; she slipped off the table, into Shaw's hand. Shaw gasped, surprised, at the sudden movement, as Root swallowed the exclamation. "Shut up, and fuck me," Root growled. Shaw grinned and bit down on Root's lip savagely as she began moving her hand rhythmically. Root allowed herself to be pushed up onto the table again, moaning quietly into Shaw's hair as Shaw added another finger to her. Root palmed her own breast harshly, gasping quietly as Shaw slammed her palm against Root's clit.

Root let out a small whine, her voice rising dangerously high. Shaw smirked and pushed her harder growling as Root disrupted her rhythm by sliding off the table and rolling her own hips erratically against Shaw's hand.

Root came quietly and painfully, painted black nails digging into Shaw's forearms. Shaw kissed her, hard, and watched her come undone, eyes screwed shut as her orgasm washed over her. "Fuck," she gasped, coming down breathlessly. Shaw stepped back, extracting her fingers carefully and sucking at the comfortably.

Root watched her, hunger still glowing in her eyes, despite her warm afterglow. Shaw made to step out of Root’s personal space, but Root hooked her belt loops and licked her lips, staring at Shaw.

There was something so guiltlessly hungry about Root’s gaze that the heat in Shaw’s abdomen tightened and expanded, sending goosebumps up her arm. Root grinned wickedly and lead Shaw to the large bed, pushing her back on it playfully before sinking to her knees  and pushing apart Shaw’s. Shaw groans as Root’s tongue greedily trails down flesh, licking and thrusting in time with her fingers, pushing Shaw over the edge with a delirious groan. She twisted Root’s hair as she buried her hands there, urging Root on; faster, deeper, more.

Root crawled up on the bed. She grinned at Shaw, lying, exhausted on the bed. She gently pushes back a sweaty curl and then hands Shaw her phone. With a quick peck on the lips, Root murmured “That text isn’t good news.” Shaw glanced at her and reached down for her phone.

“Mission failed,” Harold’s text read. Shaw starred between it and Root.

“How did you know?” She demanded. Root grinned.

“Spoilers,” she replied simply, grinning arrogantly down at Shaw. She sat in her bed, her body dotted with little red marks and bruises detailing their evening so far, and yet she was so confident. Shaw just stared at her, unsure whether the constricting feeling in her throat came from an overwhelming desire to kill, or kill her. Then Root leaned forward and kissed Shaw, answering that question.

For the moment, anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> WOW LOOK AT THAT shaw goes down on root again (FOR THE SECOND TIME IN THE WILLOWCABINS CANON (i think?)). also, root wins. but let’s be fair, she cheated. The Machine may or may not have been involved.


End file.
